When your day
is a series of clocks ticking.
Every millisecond, minute, hour—
binary counts—disorganised clicking.

Every heart and head pound
after sips of coffee and energy drinks
high on codes and calories,
pixels, powernaps,
and flickering
imageries.

A mere reflection
of this deadline-driven age,
where waking up like this everyday
is no longer a phase.

Ad hoc palpitations,
stacked one after another
like corrupted lies and files,
until one is renamed:
"dead".

return NotFound();
// Self Not Found

📅

story wrote in pen
can't be erased but can write
over write the past